So Must It Be
by White Wolf1
Summary: In an act of blind faith, Robin and his men surrender to the Sheriff of Nottingham in order to fulfill a mission known only to Herne.


(I don't own any of the characters from the TV series. I just borrowed them. No profit, just entertainment.)

SO MUST IT BE

by White Wolf

"I have a plan, Gisburne," the Sheriff said with his usual air of self-importance. "I know how to get rid of Robin Hood, once and for all."

Gisburne snorted. He had heard enough of the Sheriff's plans to last him a lifetime. Whenever one of them went wrong, which it always did, of course, he was usually the one that took the grief. 

The Sheriff looked at Gisburne with a barely suppressed laugh. He knew beyond a doubt that this was definitely The Perfect Plan. "All I need is part of the King's army."

Gisburne, who had been taking a drink of ale, spit it out in a shower. "The King's army," he repeated. "Do you really think the King will give you part of his army?" Gisburne's voice was dripping sarcasm. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and took another drink. This time he was successful in getting the ale down his throat. He couldn't help but eye the Sheriff over the rim of the cup.

"You haven't heard the plan, yet." The Sheriff was grinning like a cat that had just eaten a large, tasty bird. When Gisburne didn't show the expected enthusiasm, the Sheriff continued. "We'll surround Sherwood Forest with soldiers and move toward the center. The outlaws will be forced into an ever-decreasing area. When they no longer have any place to go, we'll get them all." De Rainault waited for the praise he was sure would follow this most excellent plan.

Gisburne just stared at him, open-mouthed. "You _are_ joking, my Lord." was all he managed to get out. His amazement was absolute. The Sheriff had outdone himself this time. Constant failure had finally loosened his fragile hold on sanity. Gisburne was convinced of it. What other explanation could there be for such an outrageous idea?

"Well, Guy, what do you think?"

"I think you're insane, my Lord," Gisburne scoffed. "Do you know how many soldiers it would take to surround Sherwood Forest? Do you really believe the King will just give you even half that many soldiers to catch a handful of wolfsheads, no matter how much of an irritation they are?"

The Sheriff glared at his steward. "I'd hardly call Robin Hood and his band of filthy villains an irritation. The King's lost who knows how much tax money, not to mention soldiers, to those outlaws." 

"He blames _us_ for that!" Gisburne reminded him. "He even replaced you once, if you remember."

A fleeting look of fear crossed the Sheriff's face at the memory of that horrible experience. Then it was gone, replaced with his usual one of superiority. He was totally convinced that his plan would succeed. "It can't fail, Gisburne. When the soldiers close in, where can Robin Hood go? He'll be totally surrounded. It worked with a certain _other_ outlaw, if you remember _that_."

"Suppose the King does agree to this..." Guy stopped to try and find the right word. The right word was stupid or possibly hair-brained, but instead he simply said, "plan of yours? What if somehow, Robin Hood escapes the trap? All that expense and time would be wasted. The humiliation would be unbearable. The King would most likely execute us both." Under his breath, he said, "Probably with his own hands." The blond-haired knight took a few more swallows of ale.

"You're too pessimistic, Guy. I told you this plan can't fail. I have it all worked out. I stayed up late last night, after the idea came to me, and I thought through the details. There'll be so many soldiers, Robin Hood couldn't possibly escape. I tell you, it's _perfect_. The King can't help but love it." De Rainault walked over to a table and sat down, propping his feet up. He picked up his cup and held it out toward Gisburne in a salute, then took several swallows of ale. The look on his face was blissful. "Believe me, it _will_ work."

* * * * * * * * * *

Two days later, a triumphant de Rainault summoned Gisburne to the great hall. Before the knight had gotten into the room very far, the Sheriff shouted, "He's agreed, Gisburne!"

"Who's agreed to what, my Lord?" the knight asked, confused. He noticed that the Sheriff was waving a piece of paper in front of him. He waved it in Gisburne's face, when he reached the Sheriff.

"The King. He's agreed to my plan. He's going to give me the soldiers I need to catch Robin Hood." 

Gisburne could have been knocked to the floor with a feather. The astonishment on his face froze his features. He found it necessary to sit down before his weakened knees failed him.

"I told you King John would love it. It's worth it to him to stop those wolfsheads." De Rainault's wicked grin was not returned.

"I don't believe it."

"You have no vision, Gisburne, which is why you'll never rise above the position of steward. I, on the other hand, might well get a promotion out of this."

While the Sheriff gloated, Guy inwardly groaned. He knew as sure as he knew his own name that something was going to go terribly wrong, and he'd end up on the lethal end of an executioner's ax. He was also sure there was no way he was going to get out of this. 

The two men were on completely opposite ends of the mood spectrum. De Rainault was smiling happily. By contrast, Gisburne was in a deep depression. He briefly thought of taking a sufficient amount of poison to make himself sick enough to miss this doomed plan. He doubted the Sheriff would allow even that to keep him from participating, not to share any of the glory, of course, but to be there to do the dirty work while the Sheriff gave the orders and took the credit.

"We need only wait until the soldiers arrive," de Rainault informed the unhappy man seated in front of him.

"When will that be, my Lord?" Gisburne asked morosely, his head down.

"Four days. It will then take three or four days to accomplish our goal. Think of it, Gisburne. In a week, _one week_, Robin Hood and his cutthroats will be here in Nottingham Castle as our prisoners. I want the privilege of killing them myself, especially that Robert of Huntingdon. I can't wait."

Gisburne closed his eyes against the thoughts of destruction that invaded his mind. Robert of Huntingdon had made fools out of both of them since he took up residence in Sherwood Forest. The first time was bad enough, pretending the outlaws had attacked him and then pretending to be held hostage by them so the real prisoners could be set free. There had been other instances since then that were too painful to dwell on. Thoughts of being lost in the forest at night were quickly banished. If he weren't involved in this latest plan, he would love to sit by and watch Robin Hood make a fool out of the Lord High Sheriff of Nottingham once again. It wouldn't have gone against Gisburne's grain to root for the Hooded Man. The Sheriff deserved it.

* * * * * * * * * * 

A few days later, deep in Sherwood, Robin was sitting down to a lunch of rabbit stew. He took a bite and smiled. "Tuck, I think this gets better every time you make it."

Tuck beamed. "Thank you, Robin. I do my best."

Just then Matthew of Wickham, Edward's son, ran into the outlaws' camp. "Robin," he gasped. He stopped and bent over with his hands on his knees, taking several deep breaths so he could speak.

"Take your time, Matthew," Robin told the boy. It was unlikely there was danger so imminent that a few minutes couldn't be spared for him to catch his breath. If it were, someone other than the boy would have been sent. Just the same, he had a bad feeling about the news Matthew might have for them.

After a minute, Matthew got his breathing under control and stood up.

"What is it, Matthew?" Robin asked. "Is something wrong in Wickham?"

"Not Wickham. Here." Matthew looked at Robin with a worried expression. He didn't want to have to deliver the kind of news his father had instructed him to bring. "I have news you aren't going to like," he said. "There are soldiers on the way here." 

"That's nothing new," Will commented. He relaxed, thinking the news had been nothing to get all excited about. He sat back down and continued eating.

"No, you don't understand. It's not just a few soldiers. There are several thousand headed here."

"Several _thousand?_" John and Tuck both said at the same time. They stared at Matthew and then at each other. The same shock was registered on both of their faces. 

Will's attention was suddenly riveted on Matthew. He visibly tensed as he stood up, dropping his bowl of stew. He didn't know or care that it had splashed on his boots.

"That can't be true," Tuck said after he got over the initial shock. "Can it?"

"It was all hush-hush at Nottingham Castle at first," Matthew said. "My Uncle James works there. He heard about it and got the news to us as fast as he could, or we would have let you know sooner."

"You did good," Robin assured him.

Matthew continued. "The Sheriff asked the King for enough soldiers to surround Sherwood. He plans to drive all of you to the middle and then take you prisoner. The soldiers are on the way here right now." He paused, then added somewhat reluctantly, "They should be here this afternoon."

John groaned. Nasir frowned.

Everyone looked at their young leader. He had an expression of disbelief. He shook his head. This was something he never expected. Surround Sherwood? Was that even possible? It was big, and it was full of underbrush, hills, cliffs, streams, a lake, all sorts of hindrances, not to mention the trees. These soldiers didn't know the terrain, and wouldn't be able to move very fast. The outlaws could easily outrun them. 

"What can we do?" Much asked. He fully expected Robin to have the solution to thwart the Sheriff's plan and keep them all safe. 

Robin stood silently for a few minutes, thinking. "We're in the southern end of Sherwood right now. That's the direction the soldiers will be coming from. There's no way we can get out of Sherwood this way before they show up. We'll have to head the long way straight through, away from them, and break out that way."

Matthew was shaking his head. "All the soldiers aren't coming from London. The King is sending them from all over England. Sherwood will be surrounded in a few hours."

John groaned again.

It was Robin's first instinct to run. Unfortunately, he realized they wouldn't just be outrunning the King's men. They would start off being completely surrounded. As tempting as it would be to say run, Robin knew that wouldn't ultimately lead to freedom.

"Well, you better come up with something, or we're all dead," Will said pointedly as he stared at Robin.

"We could hide," Tuck offered. "There are caves and other places..."

"No," Robin said before the friar could finish his thought. "It's too risky. If we're discovered, we'll have no chance to get away."

"You mean we're trapped?" Much asked, despondently. Then, he brightened as he looked hopefully at Robin. He still expected his leader to have the answer.

Robin turned to Matthew. "You'd better get back to Wickham, Matthew. Thank you and thank Edward for the warning."

"Can't I help?" the boy asked. He knew the answer, but he wanted to do _something_ to aid his friends.

"You have," Robin told him as he put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I don't want you anywhere near us when the soldiers come." He saw the look of disappointment and concern on Matthew's face. "We'll be all right," Robin added reassuringly. "Knowing you're safe will allow us to concentrate on the problem at hand."

Matthew nodded in resignation. "Good luck," he said as he headed back in the direction of Wickham. He stopped several yards away, turned back and waved. He dared not think that it might be the last time that he saw any of them.

Will said, "We can't just let them herd us like cattle until they catch us."

"No one's going to catch us," John offered. He didn't feel nearly as confident as he sounded. He couldn't help but look at Robin with an 'are they?' expression on his face.

Robin chose not to acknowledge the unspoken question. His brow was furrowed in thought. "This is too big for just us to handle. I must talk to Herne. We'll all go and see what he says." He turned back to the camp, got his sword belt and began to buckle it. He pulled Albion out of the ground, where it was embedded, and cleaned the dirt off the end before sliding the blade into his scabbard. 

In less than ten minutes, the campsite was clean. Only some scattered ashes and a few scorched stones remained to mark the spot where a camp had once been.

The six men headed at a fast clip toward the lake. They each believed their freedom, indeed their very lives, would soon be in the hands of the Lord of the Trees. 

As they approached the lake, a mist began to form at the edge of the water. Herne, in his stag persona, appeared. All the faces before him held a look of expectancy. 

"The King's men are entering Sherwood," Herne told them.

'This we know,' Will said to himself. His face quickly took on a sheepish look, convinced Herne read his thoughts. He turned his head away and didn't look back at Herne until Robin began to speak.

"What must we do to escape the soldiers?"

"The forest will soon be surrounded. There is no escape for you."

"No escape?" Robin questioned. He couldn't believe his ears. He said, "Are you saying we're going to be captured?" Both his voice and his eyes reflected his bewilderment.

Herne stood silent without answering. 

"I don't believe it," John said. "You aren't going to help us?"

A shake of Herne's head said it all. 

"I don't understand." Robin stared at his mentor. Why had he been taken away from his father, his future at Huntingdon, if he was to be killed now? It made no sense. Is this the way Loxley had felt when Herne made him understand he was about to die? Was there another 'son' waiting in the shadows to replace him the way he had replaced Loxley? Why did they all need to die? Was a whole new band of outlaws to be formed? Endless questions swirled through his head, tumbling one over the other.

"I won't interfere," Herne said at last.

"Interfere?" Robin asked. "We are to be captured and taken to the Sheriff, who wants nothing in this world more than to see us all dead, and you won't interfere?"

"All will be made clear in time. You will know what you must do."

"Yeah, in time for our execution," Will snarled. Herne may be Herne, but Will glared at him openly. "I don't intend to just sit around and get myself captured." He turned to go.

"Will," Robin called to him. "I can't make you stay with us. I know that. But, Herne wouldn't require this of us unless there was a very good reason for it." Robin had come to the conclusion that he would just have to put his trust in the forest god who called him son. "Herne knows what he's doing."

"He's getting us killed!" Will returned loudly.

"Do you trust me?" Robin asked as he turned and faced Will squarely.

Will wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. He trusted Robin with his life. Now, Robin was all but coming out and asking him to sacrifice that life. For what? He didn't want to lie and answer no. Yet, if he said yes, Robin might ask him to stay and be taken prisoner. His hesitation allowed for the only conclusion Robin could come to: Will didn't trust him enough to stay.

A fleeting look of sadness crossed Robin's face, and then he turned to the rest of the group. "You must each make the same decision. I won't fault you if you choose to leave."

"If we leave, will you come with us?" Much asked anxiously.

With a quick glance at Herne, Robin said, "No."

The Lord of the Trees extended both arms toward Robin, who drew Albion from its scabbard and placed it in the forest god's hands. Herne nodded. "So must it be." Then, he and the sword vanished in a flash of light.

Robin sighed. Herne hadn't told him anything directly, had barely spoken at all, yet Robin was now sure what Herne expected him to do, although why was still a mystery. To his friends, he said, "Whatever is supposed to happen, it will happen in Nottingham. I can't begin to explain it, but Herne has indicated I must be captured by the Sheriff. The reason I'll discover later." His voice still held a tinge of confusion but also a determination to follow through with this mission, whatever it was and wherever it led. 

Much looked at Robin's face. "Herne took Albion back. Do you think it means we're supposed to die?"

"I don't believe that. Something is waiting for me, for all of us perhaps, in Nottingham Castle. Each of you must search your heart and make the decision to go and take your best chance for escape or stay with me and..." he didn't finish because everyone was well aware of the life or death gamble they would be asked to make. 

Robin then turned and gazed out across the lake. He didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable by watching them while they tried to decide what they were going to do. The choice they made had to be something they truly believed in doing. He couldn't guarantee that they wouldn't all be executed just as Will thought they would be. He believed Herne didn't want him to die, but he could be wrong. Maybe, it was just that his death wasn't supposed to take place here in Sherwood. Robin had confidence in Herne, yet the idea of just waiting to be taken by the King's soldiers was a most unpleasant one.

It took only a few seconds for Nasir to walk up and stand next to him. The Saracen had made his decision. "I will live or die at your side." Robin turned a grateful smile on his friend.

John and Tuck came right after. Much looked at Will and then joined the others. 

Will hung back. "I'm leaving," he announced with something less than total conviction. "I can't stand around here and let it happen. I want to stay with you, but I just can't do it."

Robin turned back and approached Will. "I understand. I know what I have to do, but you don't have to be a part of it. Go wherever you think you have the best chance to survive. I told you I won't fault you. I wish you the best of luck, Will." He extended his hand. "Perhaps we'll meet again." 

"Sure we will," Much said, trying to sound positive, though that was far from the way he felt at that moment. 

Will took Robin's offered hand, and Robin quickly put his other hand on top. Will felt bad about leaving the group. But, as he had just said, he couldn't let himself get caught. He looked in Robin's eyes and saw no condemnation there. He knew there was only sincerity in his words.

Each of the others shook Will's hand and wished him well. He reluctantly walked away. His shoulders were slumped, and his head was down. His burden of guilt gave him the demeanor of someone doing something he really didn't want to do. It was an accurate description. As he moved away, he inwardly battled between his desire to stay and meet his fate with his friends, and the idea of just giving up, something he had once vowed he would never do. The battle raged, but his step never slowed. 

"I never would've thought Will'd really leave," Much said as Will disappeared into the trees. Even though it was Will who had called him a half-wit and often fussed at him for one thing or another, he hated to see the man leave. Much felt that they should all stay with Robin. They fought side by side almost every day of their lives. Whatever their end, they should face it together. He kept these thoughts to himself. If Robin didn't condemn Will, then he wouldn't, either. 

Robin sadly watched Will leave. "We're now five," he uttered in a barely audible voice. 'For how much longer?' he asked himself, then turned and headed in the opposite direction. 

"Where will we wait?" John asked.

"We'll head toward Nottingham. We're going to end up there anyway. Might as well not prolong this any more than necessary." Robin spoke softly. These men had made the choice to stay with him, yet he felt like he was letting them down. He should have told them all to leave, to try for their freedom. Now that they had made their decision to stay, he should be able to do something to save them, even if he couldn't save himself. The main thought that kept repeating itself in his mind as he walked along was that Herne knew what was waiting and wouldn't let him die without accomplishing some secret and important task. He deliberately refused to dwell on the fact that Herne hadn't saved Loxley when the soldiers came for him. It's different, he told himself. He looked at his friends. It's got to be different--for them. He had one other thought. Even though they were headed for Nottingham, he silently hoped they wouldn't have to surrender to Gisburne or the Sheriff. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

The Sheriff and Gisburne rode side by side at the head of a column of the King's soldiers. Many more were spread out to the right and left of the road. The moods of the two men hadn't changed in the last few days. The Sheriff looked positively elated. It was the longest stretch of time he had ever gone without a foul mood intervening. 

Gisburne looked morose. "Why do we have to come?" the knight grumbled. "The soldiers can catch the outlaws and bring them to us."

"Where's the fun in that, Gisburne? Don't you want to be there when Robin Hood is captured? I can't think of a more glorious way to spend our time."

"We don't know where they'll be, my Lord. We might be wasting our time if they are found far from where you expect them to be."

De Rainault looked at his steward and laughed. "I see you finally believe they'll be caught, Gisburne. I knew you'd come around. As for us being there, I've given word to all the commanders to send word to me when the outlaws are spotted. We'll be there, Gisburne. What a joy that will be." Ever since the King had sent word that he would send the soldiers, the smile on de Rainault's face hadn't faded, neither had the look of doom on Gisburne's.

The knight kept his thoughts to himself. He still believed that something disastrous was going to happen. He found himself looking into the trees to see if he could detect any unnatural movement, even though he knew the outlaws wouldn't be this close to Nottingham. He was sure they would have received word of the Sheriff's plan by now and would be headed away from them as fast as they could go. Besides, the soldiers were swarming everywhere. No one else could get close.

Two hours later, Gisburne received a shock bigger than the one he had when the King agreed to send his soldiers. When he and the Sheriff rounded a bend, Robin Hood and four of his men were standing in the middle of the road. 

Before the Sheriff could give the order to grab them, Robin held both of his hands up in the air. "We give up, Sheriff. No one has to die here."

De Rainault froze in stunned silence. He recovered quickly. "Take them!" he yelled at the column commander.

"I don't believe it," Gisburne breathed. He looked around. Forgetting his previous logic, he was fully expecting a hoard of outlaws to descend on them. He saw no one in the trees but their own men, and the only sounds were made by the soldiers as they moved forward to surround Robin and his men. The outlaws offered no resistance.

After a quick search, the commander returned to the Sheriff. "They're unarmed, m 'Lord."

"Unarmed?" This surprised de Rainault. "Bring Robin Hood to me."

Robin was roughly pushed forward. When he stood directly in front of them, Gisburne asked gruffly, "Where are your weapons?"

Robin looked up into the face of his half-brother, who wore an expression of cold contempt. '''We're surrendering. We don't need weapons to do that." 

"Where's Albion?" de Rainault asked with an undercurrent of anger at the outlaw's seeming lack of comprehension for his predicament, voluntary or not.

"Where you'll never find it." Robin replied. His voice was challenging, which served only to make Gisburne angrier.

"You will die!" Gisburne shouted.

Robin didn't comment on that prospect. Despite the circumstances, he found the sight of the red-faced knight humorous. He smiled.

When the smile didn't disappear soon enough, Gisburne swung his horse around and kicked out, aiming for Robin's head. Robin saw it coming and easily leaned out of the way. When the momentum of the swing carried Gisburne's leg up too high, he nearly fell off the other side of the horse. A curse escaped his lips, and his face got redder.

The Sheriff shook his head. "Gisburne!" he shouted in exasperation.

Gisburne could barely keep his rage in check. He glared at the Sheriff but said nothing. The red of humiliation was added to that of fury. He looked like he was about to explode.

Calmly, the Sheriff said to Robin, "Why are you surrendering?"

Robin looked evenly at de Rainault and shrugged. "We have no chance to escape. Sherwood is surrounded."

"It's a trick," Gisburne seethed. "These aren't all the outlaws."

He wanted to kick at Robin again, but if he didn't connect this time, either, he would be humiliated even more. Time enough later to get his licks in.

"Where are the others?" the Sheriff asked.

"Marion is in Halstead Priory," Robin replied. There was a slight melancholy timbre to his voice. Quickly he continued, "This you know. Will Scarlet left us two days ago for personal reasons. I'm sure he's out of Sherwood and long gone by now." The last two statements were out-right lies, but considering who he was lying to, he felt no guilt about it. "The rest of us are right here."

Gisburne moved his horse closer to the Sheriff. "I don't trust them, my Lord. Robin Hood would never just turn himself and his men in without some plan."

"You're too suspicious, Gisburne. We have over three hundred soldiers within shouting distance and much more coming through the forest. There's nothing the outlaws can do; no way they can escape, which is exactly what my plan called for." He looked at Robin. "I must admit, even with all the soldiers, I never expected you to give up so easily. I would have believed you would prefer to die in battle and take as many soldiers as possible with you instead of volunteering to go to your execution."

"That's why it's a trick," Gisburne cut in before Robin could comment on the Sheriff's none too veiled insult.

"You're wrong, Guy," Robin said. "We'll go quietly to Nottingham." He stood as calmly as he spoke. He even held his hands out in front of him so they could be tied.

The Sheriff was only too happy to oblige. "Tie them all up," he directed the soldiers surrounding the outlaws. 

"I want this wolfshead myself," Gisburne said as he jumped down from his horse and grabbed a rope from the nearest soldier. He pulled Robin's leather wristbands off and wrapped the rope around his wrists much too tightly. He looked at Robin's face for some sign of pain. Robin didn't give him the satisfaction. Gisburne tried to tighten the rope even more, but it was already cutting into Robin's skin and wouldn't go any tighter. Gisburne held the loose end of rope in his hand as he swung back up in the saddle.

When all the outlaws were tied, the Sheriff told the commander to send out word to all the other commanders that the outlaws had been caught. He ordered the soldiers to surround the prisoners three deep as they started off. He wasn't about to take any chances that Gisburne might be right that an attack could be forthcoming. 

All of Robin's men were allowed to walk on their own within the ring of soldiers. Robin was being dragged by Gisburne. Every few steps, the knight would jerk the rope, pulling Robin off balance. The first couple of times Robin managed to keep his feet under him. The third time he went down hard.

John watched what was happening and when he saw Robin fall, he started to charge the soldiers between him and Robin. He aborted the move when he heard the Sheriff's next words.

"Gisburne," de Rainault admonished, "do try to control yourself. I don't want him dragged to death. He must be executed in Nottingham for all to see."

Gisburne grumbled under his breath but eased up on the rope, giving Robin a chance to get back to his feet. 

After a while, the tips of Robin's fingers were starting to turn blue from lack of blood. His wrists were hurting. He tried to get the circulation going again by twisting on the rope. If he could just get the rope a tiny bit looser... 

Gisburne chose that moment to look back at him. The knight couldn't suppress a smile as he saw Robin's attempt to ease his pain. 'Good,' Gisburne thought. 'Let his hands fall off. He won't need them when he's put to death. Besides, the more pain he suffers in the meantime, the better.' He turned back and looked straight ahead, the smile still firmly fixed on his face.

The Sheriff laughed. "You see, Gisburne. Everything is going just as I planned it." He raised his nose up and sniffed. "I definitely detect a promotion in the air." 

'Promotion, indeed,' Gisburne grumbled. 'He actually thinks the King is going to offer him a fat position at court.' The knight had the overwhelming desire to knock that pompous ass off his horse. He would just have to force himself to be content with thinking about Robin's discomfort. However, he couldn't suppress the desire to make a comment. "The King won't be too happy."

De Rainault stared at his steward. "Happy? He'll be thrilled. Why on earth do you think he won't be happy?"

"All these soldiers were sent from all over England, at great expense to the King, to come here and catch Robin Hood."

"Yes, and Robin Hood is right behind you, tied up, I might add. So are his men."

"I know, my Lord, but we didn't really catch them. They gave themselves up voluntarily."

"Gisburne, sometimes I wonder at your mental powers. They wouldn't have given up if we hadn't had the soldiers to surround Sherwood Forest. Got it?" 

Gisburne kept his mouth shut after that. 

* * * * * * * * * *

The entourage reached Nottingham Castle just after dark. The Sheriff was disappointed. He would have preferred to enter Nottingham during the daytime, riding through the streets in the sunshine, all the people waving and cheering his accomplishment. The fact that most of the people would have booed him for bringing in the man they revered never entered his mind.

Gisburne, on the other hand, was grateful for the darkness. He knew how the people felt. He still had the feeling something was going to go wrong, but there were so many soldiers with them, he no longer feared an attack from those who wanted to free the Hooded Man and his gang. Still, he would feel a whole lot better when the wolfsheads were all securely in the castle dungeon.

The Sheriff put Gisburne in charge of seeing that the prisoners were put into that dungeon. Guy was happy about that. He had special plans for Robin Hood. The prospect delighted him and a cruel smile crossed his face.

Gisburne led the prisoners and their escorts down into the lower regions of the castle. He moved effortlessly along the twisting halls, lit only by torches that sat in iron scones high on the walls. 

Instead of putting the captives in floor cells that were accessible only by ladders put down through openings in the floor above, he led the way to a room whose stone walls were several feet thick. Two cells, twelve feet square, faced each other eight feet apart. There were no benches or beds in the cells at all. They were also dusty and cold, a moldy smell of abandonment heavy in the air. Spider webs hung between some of the bars. There was nothing else in the room.

Gisburne directed the soldiers to put John, Nasir, Tuck and Much into the left-side cell. Their hands were still tied, and he left them to get each other's bonds off as best they could. He didn't really care. There was no way they were going to get the double-locked door open.

Robin he put in the cell across from them. However, the ropes around his wrists were cut off, revealing angry red marks. He was chained to the back wall. The cuffs, embedded in the stone wall, were high above his head so that his arms had to be stretched up and slightly spread apart to reach them. The manacles were snapped around his already sore wrists. 

Gisburne nodded his approval when one of the soldiers clanged the cell door closed and secured the double lock. The knight stood in the center of the area between the cells and looked first at Robin's men, all standing and glowering at him with unbridled hatred. He then looked at Robin, chained up and clearly uncomfortable. "Now, that's more like it." He walked up close to Robin's cell. "I'll be back, Hooded Man. I intend on making you pay for all the humiliation you've caused me. You'll be begging for your death before long." There was a cold, venomous tone to his voice and a sneer on his face. 

Gisburne turned to the soldiers standing behind him. "I want four guards outside this room al all times. No one is to leave until he is replaced. And, absolutely no one else but me or the Sheriff is to be allowed in here. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," one of the guards replied, nodding several times.

"Good. It'll mean your head if any one of these animals escapes. If Robin Hood gets loose, _all_ of you will take his p lace on the executioner's block."

Not a single guard doubted the man's authority or determination to fulfill that threat. "One question, sir," the head guard ventured with more than a little trepidation.

"Yes?" Gisburne growled.

"How are we going to feed him?" He indicated Robin with the nod of his head. "Sir," he added respectfully.

Gisburne laughed. "He's going to die, you dolt. He doesn't need to be fed." A slight frown crossed his face. "On second thought, give them all bread and water. We don't want them to starve or die of thirst before we can kill them, now do we?"

"No, sir," the guard answered, thinking it was a question he was supposed to answer.

Gisburne just stared at him and shook his head. "Two guards outside the cell, two inside and unlock one cuff only. Never let him completely loose."

"Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir," the flustered guard replied.

With another shake of his head, Gisburne walked out. He left behind an evil laugh that sent chills down the guard's back. 

All the guards followed the Sheriff's steward out the door.

When Gisburne entered the great hall, de Rainault was sitting in his usual chair, sipping wine.

The Sheriff raised his hand and waved Gisburne over to him. "Come, Guy. Let us celebrate." He poured the wine. Gisburne quickly drank the contents and poured himself some more. "Go easy on that. We want to enjoy this moment."

Gisburne didn't answer. He just drank more wine.

"Are our guests comfortable?"

"Guests? Comfortable?"

"It's a figure of speech, Gisburne. Are our new prisoners secure?"

"Very. I put them in the north end cells."

The Sheriff was somewhat surprised at that. Those cells hadn't been used in years. It had been proven that without ladders, no one had a chance to escape the floor cells. "Why them?"

"I don't want to have to climb up and down a ladder every time I visit."

"Visit? Why would you do that?"

"I intend on..." Gisburne stopped sharply and took another drink to cover.

The meaning of the missing words dawned on the Sheriff. "You won't do anything to interfere with the execution." It was a flat statement that carried with it an implied but very real warning.

"Just a little fun, my lord. Considering what he's done to us, I would think you'd like to see him suffer before he dies."

"Seeing him die will be enough for me." De Rainault, for all his ruthlessness, wasn't into personal torture. Gisburne also didn't usually engage in such pursuits, but in Robin Hood's case, he was willing to make an exception. In fact, he was quite relishing the idea.

De Rainault had a faraway look in his eyes. He was remembering the time he watched Loxley die on the tor. He had the same look of joyous expectation on his face when Guy had tried to kill Robert of Huntingdon with Albion when they had discovered his new identity. This would be even sweeter because now the people would actually see their beloved champion die. With both Robin Hoods dead, no one would ever again dare to become the Hooded Man.

The Sheriff and his steward continued to drink and talk about the eminent death of Robin Hood and his gang. Finally, Gisburne got up and left the room, thoughts of what he would begin doing to Robin Hood the next day running through his mind. 'For now, let him think about it,' he laughed to himself. 

After Gisburne left the dungeon, John looked across into Robin's cell. It galled him to see that Gisburne had shackled him to the wall. He could only imagine how uncomfortable he must be. "Robin?"

"I'm all right, John," Robin assured the big man and the others. Basically, that was true. He had sustained no real injuries. He refrained from telling them, however, that he was hurting. 

"How are we going to get out of here?" Much questioned.

Robin was wondering that same thing himself. He was chained up. They were all in windowless cells that were double-locked. The bars were thick and very strong. Even John, with his great strength, couldn't have begun to break out. There was only one entrance, and it was manned by four very alert guards, if Gisburne's threat meant anything. "We'll find a way, Much," Robin said with as much optimism as he could manage. He was the leader, and despite the fact he was in worse straits than his men were, he knew he had to keep them positive. They had all gotten out of worse situations--well, bad ones anyway.

An hour later, the guards came in to feed their prisoners a late dinner. The lead guard took Gisburne's threat very seriously and brought, not three, but four other guards with him. He opened the cell containing the four men, and, noticing they had all gotten their ropes off, ordered them to stand by the back wall. He dropped the tray with the bread and set the water bucket down before quickly exiting. He was particularly eyeing the huge man with the scowl. Turned loose, he knew the man could take him over his knee and break him in half. The dark one in black leather looked almost as formidable and every bit as angry.

The guard felt a little safer entering Robin's cell. He took two guards with him just in case. He unlocked the cuff on Robin's right wrist and handed him some bread and a cup of water. It was a little awkward, but Robin managed to eat the bread without spilling the water. He finished the somewhat dry bread then drained the welcomed liquid. The guard grabbed the cup as soon as Robin took it from his lips. 

Just once did their eyes meet. The guard visibly shook with nervousness. He looked as if he fully expected Robin to come off the wall and attack him. This was the famous Robin Hood. He didn't look fierce, but surely the stories wouldn't lie. He was a dangerous man, and definitely not one to be taken lightly. The guard would almost rather face the big man in the other cell.

Robin just smiled at him. After reshackling him, the guards left. The smile disappeared as he again began to think of what they could do to get out before the time of reckoning came. To himself, yet out loud, he said, "all right, Herne. What am I doing here?" If Herne had materialized out of mist there in the cell to answer that question, Robin wouldn't have been surprised. Nothing materialized. Then, Herne's words, "I won't interfere," came to mind. 'So, it's up to me,' Robin thought resignedly. 'Great.'

The stone at his back was cold, and it was beginning to invade his body. Both of his wrists ached. His arms and shoulders were starting to cause some serious pain from the position they were in and from the inactivity. 

Robin realized that if he fell asleep, his knees would bend and all his weight would be on his already injured wrists. He stretched his feet forward as far as he could and still keep them flat on the floor. He locked his knees, pushing his back against the wall so he could brace it to take most of the pressure. It wasn't a perfect solution, especially since the wall was so cold, but it would have to do. He would have been decidedly unhappier if he had known that it was the most comfortable he was going to be for a long time.

* * * * * * * * * * 

Morning dawned bright and clear, promising a beautiful though slightly chilly spring day. Lazy white clouds drifted across the sky as it lightened, turning from dark blue to azure. Birds chirped cheerfully, unmindful of the drama going on in the nether regions of Nottingham Castle.

By contrast, Robin was miserable. His hands were numb, He was so cold, his teeth were chattering. Shudders racked is body every few minutes. He didn't think he would ever again be able to get his arms down. They felt frozen in place above his head. The little sleep he had gotten had been fitful, at best, and his discomfort had penetrated his unconscious mind, bringing forth dreams of torture his body hadn't yet been subjected to.

He looked across into the other cell, and in the dim light from the two torches left burning at either end of the room, he saw his men all asleep on the stone floor. At least, they were lying down, something he would have given almost anything to be able to do right then.

Robin had spent a good deal of the night trying to think what to do. He was here for a purpose. He was certain of that. All would be made clear in time, Herne had told him. He still had no idea what he was supposed to accomplish. The more immediate problem was how to get out of the current predicament. Herne hadn't said anything about _that_. Robin came to the same conclusion he had reached the night before: it was up to him. Between the cold, the pain and the lack of sleep, it was hard to put two thoughts together in sequence. 

'Come on, Robin, _think_.'

Just then, there was the sound of the heavy door opening. When it slammed shut, John woke up. He shook Tuck and Much as he got to his feet. Nasir was already getting to his feet. John stood at the bars and looked toward the door. He expected the guards with more bread and water. 

It was Gisburne. He looked at the outlaws with feigned concern. "I hope you all spent a pleasant night."

"You'll pay for this," John snarled between clenched teeth. He felt more for Robin's circumstances than he did for his own. He hadn't had the chance to speak to Robin this morning, but he could see and well imagine how miserable he was.

"Funny," Gisburne said. "That's just what I said about all of you." He laughed when he turned toward Robin's cell. Without moving his eyes from the outlaw's face, he said to the guard behind him. "Open the door."

The guard hastened to get the double-lock undone. He was so nervous, he fumbled with he key. Gisburne impatiently grabbed the key and unlocked the door himself. 

The knight walked up to Robin and stared at him, looking for some sign that he had suffered during the night. No such luck. Robin looked at him evenly and didn't betray his true physical discomfort. "Good morning, Guy," he said pleasantly.

In a move so sudden and quick Robin didn't see it coming, Gisburne backhanded him across the face. The fury behind it gave the swing added force, and Robin's head hit the stone wall. A sharp pain shot through his head, adding a new pain to those he already had. He still wasn't willing to let Gisburne know how much it hurt, but he also wasn't willing to antagonize the man into doing it again. Instead, Robin just looked at him. 

Gisburne said, "You'll be happy to know the Sheriff has set your execution date." He paused for effect, but Robin's expression didn't change. After a minute of waiting, Gisburne continued. "It's at noon tomorrow. Your men will be beheaded. You, on the other hand, will be hung, so everyone will _know _it's really you hanging by the gate." Still no reaction from Robin. "I would like it to happen today in a very different manner," he said with relish. "But, the Sheriff wants to make sure there's a large crowd to witness the event. Maybe, even King John himself will come. After all, a great deal of the money you stole was his." 

"_Ours_," Robin corrected. "It belongs to the people of England. He's supposed to use it for _us_. He doesn't, so we simply distribute some of it where it should rightfully go."

Gisburne raised his hand to backhand Robin again. He lowered it without striking the blow. This brought a surprised look to Robin's face. Gisburne was pleased to have evoked some kind of reaction from the wolfshead. He would like to evoke fear, but if telling him when he would die didn't do it, he figured nothing else he said would, either. He did like seeing the angry red mark on the side of Robin's face.

Just then, a soldier came in and told Gisburne that the Sheriff wanted him. The knight turned to go. "I'll be back later. I'm far from through with you." In one last attempt to give Robin something to fear, he added, "A bit of torture won't interfere with your execution. You may just need a little help getting to it." 

After Gisburne and the guards left, John looked at Robin. "That man's twisted."

"Yes," Robin agreed. "He's also very frustrated. I know how the Sheriff treats him."

It was Tuck who looked the most surprised. He quickly remembered he was the only one of them that knew Robin and Gisburne were half-brothers. He wondered if Robin still hated the man, or if he had developed a soft spot for him, since finding out. Tuck and Robin had never talked about it. Now, it was beginning to look like they would never get that chance. "You almost sound sorry for him," Tuck said finally, unwilling to betray the secret even now.

"I usually feel sorry for people who are that unhappy. However, in his case, I make an exception. He's the only one responsible for how he reacts to whatever happens to him. Lashing out with cruelty against those who can't defend themselves is not the way to go about dealing with your problems."

"How are you holding up?" John asked with concern.

"I'll live," Robin replied before realizing what he had said. "At least for a while," he added with a touch of humor.

Much looked at Robin. "How are we gonna get out of here?" It was the same question he had asked the night before. He was sure Robin had come up with something by now.

"There's a way, Much. We'll just have to find it." Robin sounded as positive as he could. He believed what he was saying. He had to--for all of their sakes.

None of them had the heart to ask what would happen if Gisburne made good on his promise to come back and torture Robin. How far Gisburne would go they had no idea. As long as Robin was still alive for the execution, Gisburne probably had permission to do whatever he liked. John got hot just thinking about it. For Robin's sake, he didn't voice his fear. There was really no need to. They could all well imagine what Gisburne's hatred might drive him to do. 

The door opened again, and the guards entered with more bread and water. These were different guards from the night before, and they were much more talkative. They spoke as if they were alone, totally disregarding the outlaws.

"So, how'd they get 'im here?" the guard with the key asked his closest companion.

At first, Robin thought they were talking about him. He realized he was wrong, when the second guard answered.

"I've heard they actually sent a longboat of soldiers disguised as a greeting party out and just took him off the ship before anyone knew what was happening. They brought him to Nottingham so no one in London would be able to find him. Nobody knows if King John is behind it or not." All the while the guard told his tale, he was handing out the bread and water.

Robin wasn't sure why, but he was intensely interested in who this was they were talking about. He listened carefully to the exchange between the guards.

The first guard asked, "What're they gonna do with 'im?"

"Make him disappear in the middle of the night, if you ask me." The guard ran his finger across his throat. "He can't rightly be let loose, now can he?" The two guards laughed heartily.

"Who are you two be talking about?" Robin asked with a voice he hoped would project simple, innocent curiosity.

The question was met with an air of dismissal. "Never you mind."

The guards had finished their work and left, more laughter following them out the door.

"Who could they be talking about?" John asked.

"I don't know," Robin replied, "but I have a strong feeling this person is the reason we're here." 

Further attempts to get information on the mysterious prisoner met with the same wall of silence. Even when new guards came in, they, too, kept their mouths shut. They feared the ruthless Sheriff and the equally ruthless Gisburne more than their desire to brag about knowing the identity of the new prisoner. Their lives had already been threatened. They weren't about to take any chances on doing something that might bring unspeakable cruelty down on them. No way were they going to tell even a condemned outlaw what they knew.

There was absolutely no way Robin could figure out on his own who it could be. Perhaps, he could somehow goad Gisburne into revealing the secretly-held prisoner's identity. The only problem with that strategy was that goading Gisburne tended to make him violent, and violence would lead directly to pain. Robin finally decided he'd have to chance it, but he'd have to be careful in how and when to do it.

Gisburne showed up again right after lunch. He strolled into the cell room as if he was going on an afternoon walk in the garden. One look at his hate-filled eyes told anyone that knew him that something unpleasant would soon follow his appearance. He instructed one of the guards that came with him to open Robin's cell door.

"Had a nice lunch, I presume." The knight's voice was as cold as his heart. He came to a stop directly in front of Robin. "I wish the Sheriff didn't have this obsession about having you die in front of everyone so they would know you were really dead. I'd love to finish it here, with you screaming in agony, begging for me to end it."

"Aren't we in a good mood today?" Robin asked almost playfully. If he was going to goad Gisburne, he decided that now was as good a time as any. He steeled himself for what he was sure would soon follow his words.

True to form, Gisburne slapped Robin the same way and in the same place as he had only hours before. Robin inwardly flinched but to Gisburne's eye, there was no reaction. The steward swung his hand back, hitting Robin on the other side of his face. It, too, stung. Still no reaction.

"Leave him alone, you coward!" John screamed from the other cell. When Gisburne turned to look at him, John said, "Why don't you fight him fair and square? Or, do you only fight someone who's chained up?"

Gisburne pointed at John. "I'll deal with you, with all of you, later." Turning back to Robin, he said, "This will be enjoyable, having them watch their fearless leader helplessly beaten." No sooner had he uttered the last word than he balled his fist and drove it into Robin's stomach.

Robin's breath came out in a whoosh, and he couldn't help but grimace both from the blow and from the pain that shot through his wrists when his hands twisted as he jerked forward. Another blow followed, and it served to bring gasping sounds from the fair-haired outlaw.

When Robin finally straightened up, breathing hard, Gisburne had his knife out. He turned his hand back and forth, letting the torch light gleam on the shiny metal. He used the point to slowly push Robin's long hair back over his shoulder and then held the blade up against the side of Robin's neck. 

"You won't kill me," Robin said with certainly, still trying to get his breathing under control.

"Won't I?"

"The Sheriff wants me to die so all the people will see. Remember?"

"I could tell him you were regrettably killed trying to escape with your men."

"He knows how you feel about me. He'd never believe you. Think of the humiliation and the punishment you'd be in for, letting the Sheriff believe I got even close to escaping."

"Whatever he would do to me would be worth it. Besides, all he really needs is your dead body to hang by the gate. How it actually gets dead doesn't really matter."

For half a second Robin thought Guy might just make good on his threat and take his chances with de Rainault. 

Gisburne began to push the blade of his knife closer against Robin's neck, forcing his head back until it was hard against the wall. Gisburne couldn't resist the urge to pull the knife down toward Robin's throat. Bright blood sprang from the cut that resulted. It wasn't a deep cut, but seeing the blood seemed to snap the knight out of his bloodlust, for the moment anyway. He pulled the knife away. "Seems you've cut yourself," he said coolly as he put the knife away.

Now was Robin's chance. "Is this also the way you treated your special new prisoner?" When he saw the questioning look on Guy's face, he added, "You know, the one taken from the ship."

Fury crossed the knight's face. "How do you know about _him_?"

"I know a lot of things that go on in Nottingham," Robin replied calmly. "You didn't answer my question."

"Don't you worry about that newly titled Earl. He'll get what he deserves. Just like you." Unlike the guards, Gisburne didn't seem to be worried about mentioning the fact the prisoner was an Earl and a new one. He probably didn't think Robin, living in the forest, would know anything about the recent affairs that went on among the gentry. He thought he was keeping the secret by not mentioning the Earl's name. 

It didn't matter. Robin knew there was only one new Earl in England. It was Henry de Bohun, first Earl of Hereford, given the title by King John. He also knew the new Earl of Hereford was now opposed to the King and planned to organize a council of like-minded and powerful land barons to move, if not in open rebellion, at least in a political power-play, against the King. All of this he remembered from a conversation he had with his father a month before when Robin had slipped into Huntingdon for a secret celebration on his father's birthday. David Huntingdon had told his son he would be one of the first to join the council so long as it remained strictly political. He would never strike a physical blow against the crown nor would he support anyone who did.

'Thank you, Guy,' Robin said to himself. 'You've told me all I need to know.' The outlaws had to get loose, free de Bohun, and get him and themselves to the safety of Sherwood. If the Earl's council could be established, it may curb some of King John's tyranny. This is what Herne had wanted Robin here to do. It was all so clear now, just as Herne said it would be. As the realization fully dawned on Robin, he couldn't help but smile. 

Guy naturally thought the smile was an act of defiance. Before Robin knew it, Gisburne slugged him on the jaw. Robin's head slammed back against the stone wall, this time knocking him out cold. His body slumped, and his head dropped forward. Gisburne grabbed a hand full of golden hair and yanked Robin's head up. He slapped him yet again. When he finally realized that Robin was really unconscious, he jerked Robin's head forward in disgust. After uttering a few curses, Gisburne turned on his heel and left the cell. 

He locked the door and turned to face the other outlaws. He gazed into four pairs of glaring, hate-filled eyes. "Tell him when he wakes up, there'll be more of that before he dies." He stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

John began yelling Robin's name. Nasir, knowing it wasn't going to do any good, put his hand on the big man's arm. When their eyes met, Nasir shook his head. "Wait." 

The observant Saracen had watched Robin and now believed Robin had discovered why Herne had him give himself up to his enemies by coming willingly to Nottingham

John slammed his fist against the iron bars. If he had been loose, he would have gladly killed Gisburne with his bare hands. "We've got to get out of here," he said half under his breath but with vehemence. 

Much was totally in the dark. Also looking at Robin, he said, "I don't understand. Why did Herne send Robin here to be tortured?"

"Robin knows," Nasir told the young man.

Much looked at Nasir with a question in his expression. So did John and Tuck.

Just them Robin slowly raised his head and groaned. His friends looked over at him anxiously. "Robin?" John called.

After a minute, Robin gave them a weak smile. "I don't think Gisburne takes kindly to being taunted." He worked his jaw around to make sure it wasn't broken. It wasn't, but it sure did hurt. He couldn't see the bruise that had formed near his chin. Sharp pain was also shooting through his head. He wanted to shake it to clear the cobwebs out, but he was afraid he might pass out again, so he kept it as still as he could. "I'm all right," he said.

"You sure?" John questioned.

"Yeah, if I don't move too much," Robin returned. "I know why Herne wanted us to come here."

"That's what Nasir said," Much informed him. "Why did we come?"

Robin briefly explained what he had figured out. "So, we have to get out of here. Does anyone have any ideas?"

"Nothing practical," said John. "We've discussed all kinds of things, mostly us trying to get all the guards in here and then overpowering them, but there always seems to be one weakness in each idea we come up with." John tried to keep despondency out of his tone. He wasn't ready to give up just yet, and he knew the others weren't, either. But, hopelessness seemed right around the corner.

More bread and water was given out for dinner. The guards seemed particularly cheerful. The lead guard was always the one to unlock Robin's cuff. "They won't be feeding you in the morning. Waste of good bread since you'll be dying at noon. So, I guess this'll be your last meal. Not much, is it?" He laughed without a hint of concern.

"Not what I would've chosen," Robin said. "Couldn't you maybe bring some stew or better yet, some roasted venison, with vegetables and maybe some fresh baked apples with cream?"

"Be as smart-mouthed as you like, it won't do you no good," the second guard said. "Bread and water's all you lot get."

Tuck's mouth began to water at the mention of Robin's 'menu'. Being imprisoned here wasn't the first time he had been forced to eat only bread and water, but it seemed the older he got the harder it was to accept. He was really hungry. As if on cue, his stomach began to express its displeasure.

Several hours later, Robin's headache had calmed down to a dull throb. His jaw was sore and his wrists still hurt but none of it was anything he couldn't push to the back of his mind, if he tried. Time was running out on the outlaws. Their execution would take place at noon the next day. By Robin's reckoning, it was probably around midnight. Twelve hours left. 'Something better show up soon,' he thought.

Something did.

* * * * * * * * * * 

The door opened and in walked a lone guard. He walked straight to Robin's cell and opened it. At first, Robin thought it was Gisburne coming to make good on his promise to continue the torture. But, his man was too short.

The guard had on a helmet, and he kept his head down. When he reached up to unlock Robin's cuffs, his face was fully exposed.

"Will!" Robin exclaimed. 

"It's me," Will replied, grinning broadly. Before Robin could ask, Will said, "I couldn't just go off and leave all of you here to get yourselves killed." He unlocked the other cuff.

Robin was tempted to rub his sore wrists, but they were almost raw, and he didn't want to make them hurt any more than they already did. 

"Those look nice," Will commented casually. 

"Compliments of Gisburne." Robin put his aches and pains behind him for the time being and led Will out of the cell and across to where their friends were. 

John and the others had stood with their mouths open when the lone 'guard' had let Robin loose. They couldn't understand what was going on. Even if Robin was to be taken away, surely there would have been the usual four guards. When they saw Robin smiling, they were even more bewildered. When, they had heard Robin call Will's name, they were elated.

"Are you a sight for sore eyes," John said as he grasped Will's hand. 

"Aye," Tuck agreed. "How?"

"Later," Robin called back. "We've got to get clear of here first."

The outlaws joined him at the door. Robin cautiously opened it a crack. He put his eye to the opening and looked into the guards' room beyond.

"They're all out cold--or dead," Will told his blond leader. When Robin looked back at him, Will grinned. "Surprises can be fatal."

When Robin opened the door and verified Will's assessment. Four guards lay about the little room. One, just coming to, started to moan. Will moved past Robin and, taking his helmet off, bashed the guard on the head, silencing him for good. He shrugged up at Robin and then led the way to the outer door. He checked the passageway and found it was empty.

Will pointed to his uniform, "I'm dressed like one of them. I'll go first." 

Robin nodded. Having anyone that they might come across think Will was a soldier might buy them the extra seconds that could make the difference between getting away and being returned to their cells. Capture would be for good this time. 

Will led the way down several more passages and then turned left toward a stone stairway that would lead to freedom. 

Robin grabbed his arm. "No, Will. We have to go _that _way," indicating straight ahead.

"What? That way leads to the other cells. There are lots more soldiers there. Why..."

Robin interrupted him by putting his hand up for silence. He motioned the outlaws to flatten themselves against the wall. Two soldiers crossed their position heading down the other hall. They were busy talking and didn't notice the escapees so close to them.

"Will, there's someone we have to rescue."

Will's eyes got big. "We've got to get out of here. We won't be able to avoid all the soldiers down here. Who can be that important?"

"The Earl of Hereford."

"The Earl of Hereford? What are you talking about?"

Robin turned to face Will. He wasn't thrilled about what he was about to ask his friend to do, but it was the only way he knew to get the job done. "Listen, Will. The Earl of Hereford is here in the dungeon. I don't have time to explain how important he is. We have to get him out of Nottingham. That's why Herne wanted us here. There are too many guards and too many cells to check individually. Only another guard can find him quickly. I don't have time to change into that uniform."

Robin waited for the meaning of his words to dawn on Will. It didn't take long.

"You want _me_ to go find him?"

"You're the soldier here," John pointed out. He grinned at Will when the man stared up at him. 

"Of course, freeing you lot wasn't enough." Will's tone was sarcastic. "I should have kept going just like I said in the first place." Will's grumbling was easy for Robin to read. He would do it.

"Thanks, Will," Robin said before Will could protest further. "We'll go with you as far as we can. Then you'll have to find him on your own and let us know exactly where he is." Robin laughed as Will started down the hall, mumbling to himself. The others stayed close behind.

They kept moving until they reached an alcove only a few feet from the nearest cell. Three guards stood against the wall across from the cell, talking among themselves.

While on the way, Robin had come up with an idea. He pulled Will up short and whispered the plan. "Attacking these guards will cause too much of a commotion. Go over there and tell them you have come from Gisburne and the Sheriff wants the Earl..." Robin paused. "No, you better not mention the Earl. These guards may not know who he is. Wait to see if one of them mentions him by name or title. Just say, the special prisoner. If we're lucky they'll help you get him out. If so, lead them back to us. Any questions?"

"What if they don't let me near him?" Will inquired.

"You'll think of something," Robin reassured the doubting man.

Will looked at Robin. "Is this guy _really_ that important?"

"Yes, Will, he is. You'll find out later."

"If any of us gets out of here alive," Will commented as he took a deep breath and rounded the corner toward the three guards.

Will nodded to the guards as he approached them. In a gruff voice, he said, "Gisburne sent me. Sheriff wants our special prisoner upstairs."

One of the guards looked at Will suspiciously. "I thought the Earl was to remain down here, so no one would know we've got him."

"Well, don't ask me to explain the Sheriff's motives. Gisburne said get him, so I came to get him. That's all I know. Neither of them is in a good mood at the moment. If you want to question them, go ahead. I'll wait here until they bring you down here in chains." Will had to work hard not to smile at the brilliance of his made-up story. He also liked the blanched look on the faces of the three guards.

The ploy worked. One guard told one of the others to open the cell. The Earl was right under Will's nose. The cell door was lifted and flung open and the ladder put down in the hole. "Come on up, your lordship," the guard said with mock deference.

Will was a bit surprised at the youth of the man who climbed the ladder and stepped up beside him. He was tall, with dark brown hair and a thin mustache. He looked to be only a couple of years older than Robin.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked in the clipped accent typical of most of the gentry.

"The Sheriff wants you," Will said and grabbed the Earl roughly by the arm. He shoved the man ahead of him. 

"We can't let you take him alone," the first guard said.

"Good, come on" Will replied over his shoulder. "If he tries to escape, he won't have a chance with the four of us along."

Will and the Earl rounded the corner. Will winked at Robin, who he knew had heard everything and would be waiting for the guards behind him.

The Earl stopped when he saw Robin and the others standing along the alcove walls. Will pushed him on before he could say anything to inadvertently alert the guards, who were just then rounding the corner. Robin quickly put his finger to his lips and shook his head at the surprised Earl. A second later he and Will were beyond them, heading down the passageway.

Both men turned and looked back when they heard the unmistakable sounds of the ambush. Robin knocked out one guard, and John grabbed the other two and banged their heads together. They all fell limply to the floor.

The Earl, thinking Will was a real guard, turned and pulled a fist back ready to punch him. Will held up his hand. "No. I'm one of the good guys. We've come to free you."

The Earl didn't land the blow. He didn't lower his fist, either.

Instead, he grabbed Will and swung him around so he could keep an eye on him and the men who were coming toward him. Nasir had been left to keep an eye out for any other guards who might come their way.

Robin smiled. "It's all right. He's one of mine," he said, indicating Will. "I'm Robin Hood. You must the Earl of Hereford." He held his hand out.

The Earl looked at Will. He lowered his hand and then shook Robin's hand. There was a decidedly puzzled look on his face.

"I've heard of you. You're an outlaw." There was a slight note of condemnation in his voice.

Robin nodded his confirmation of the remark. "Right now I'm your rescuer. Let's get going. We can talk when we get to Sherwood." Robin moved past Will and the Earl and headed back down the hall to the cutoff that would lead to the stairs.

When they stopped to check a crossing hallway, John whispered to Robin. "How do we get out? There are bound to be a lot of people gathering for our execution."

"That's exactly what I'm counting on. Mix and mingle." He raised his eyebrows and grinned up at his friend. 

"I hope we don't have to try and fight our way out," Tuck remarked.

"Me, too," Robin said. The only weapon among them was the sword Will had as part of his uniform. Robin didn't fancy trying to defend all seven of them with just the one sword.

Robin reached the stairs and started up. The Earl was right behind him. Nasir, who had joined them, came next. Will brought up the rear to protect them in case any soldiers came up after them.

The little group made their way up the steps quickly yet quietly. When they reached the top, they made their way to the door that would lead to the courtyard at the rear of the castle. Ordinarily, it would be closed to the public, but it was now open, getting ready for the outlaws' execution. The door opened with little effort.

Will swallowed hard when he looked across and saw the platform with the chopping block sitting forlornly on top of it. There were old, brown bloodstains streaked down the side of the platform from previous beheadings. Will swallowed again as he rubbed his neck, trying not to think how his blood would have soon been added to the stains there. 'Might still, if we don't get out of here,' he said to himself.

Robin was looking around for any soldiers that might be observing the door where they stood. The soldiers that were in evidence were not looking their way. Robin held the door open and ushered the group out. "Scatter," he whispered. "We'll meet up at the edge of Sherwood."

"Should we separate?" John asked.

"There are too many of us. If we stay together, we're bound to attract attention. I'll keep the Earl with me. No more than two together. Go," he urged.

Will, having just remembered he was dressed as a soldier, walked boldly through the crowd that was beginning to grow large. He stopped near the far gate to keep an eye out for his friends. He wanted to be able to use his soldier persona to help out if any of them were detained.

The first to reach the gate were Much and Tuck. They had wandered through the crowd with Tuck offering blessings here and there. Once, a woman stopped the friar and wanted him to bless her young son. He gladly offered his blessing to the child. When he and Much reached the gate, Will nodded at them as they passed through and headed for Sherwood, forcing themselves not to run.

John soon followed. He had worried a bit about being discovered because he was so large. He was sure someone would raise an alarm. He got several stares but was not stopped by anyone. He winked at Will as he strode by.

Robin getting out unnoticed would be a much harrier proposition. Just about everyone in Nottingham knew him or at least, had seen him before. Most of them would gladly have aided his escape. However, it would take only one person with an eye out to gain favor with the Sheriff to call attention to the Hooded Man.

Will almost held his breath as Robin and the Earl started across the courtyard. The Earl was another problem. He may have been in prison for a while, but he was dressed in clothes that obviously belonged to a nobleman, despite how dirty and disheveled they now were. Though their clothes didn't reflect the similarity in their upbringing, he and Robin both had the physical bearing of men of aristocratic heritage. 

More than once, people stopped Robin to wish him well or thank him for some deed he had done for them or some member of their family. Before long, he had attracted a small crowd. Few people had ever had the chance to be so close to him. Amazingly, not a single person seemed to connect his presence among them in the courtyard with the fact they were all there to witness his execution. 

Predictably, it didn't take long for soldiers on the walls surrounding the courtyard to notice the growing knot of people. Will saw that two soldiers were pointing down at the group. The soldiers started down the wall stairs. Will wasn't sure what he should do. He couldn't hold them off by himself, especially since he now saw several other soldiers becoming interested. 

Finally, Robin looked up and saw the soldiers headed straight for them. If they didn't yet know it was Robin Hood at the center of the crowd, they soon would. He realized that they were going to have to make a run for it. He tapped the Earl on the shoulder and then ran for the gate. Will started toward them.

There was a man in the crowd who, seeing Will going toward Robin, tripped him up. He would have sent Will on to his ultimate reward, if he had possessed any kind of weapon. 

Robin reached Will just as he was getting to his feet and was about to be punched out by the man. Robin held his hand up to the man. "He's mine," he said, claiming Will for the second time. "If you want to help, get the people to crowd the soldiers and give us time to get away."

The man nodded. "Anything for the man who saved my brother from a forester's arrow." He rushed off and began gesturing and telling the people nearby what to do. In less than a minute, the soldiers were trying to fight their way through an ever-increasing crowd of people milling around. No matter which way they turned, there were people in front of them. Their shouts did no good to disperse the crowd. A few pretended to panic, using that as an excuse to bump into the soldiers, knocking two of them down.

Robin grabbed the Earl's arm with one hand and Will's arm with the other. "Let's go," he said as he pushed them ahead of him. All three began to run toward the gate. Once out, they headed straight for the forest.

When they reached the edge of the trees, John, Tuck and Much were waiting. "Where's Nasir?" Robin asked.

"I never saw him," Will said. "I thought maybe he got out before I got to the gate."

"He wasn't here when we got here," Tuck informed Robin.

"Maybe he's down there," Much offered, pointing farther down the tree line.

"He couldn't have reached here before we left the gate. We'd have seen him," Tuck said. There was nothing but open space between the Nottingham gate and the edge of the forest.

Robin was just about to say he would go back and look, when Much pointed and said, "There he is!"

Nasir reached them a minute later. The Saracen smiled as he took the lead and headed away from Nottingham.

* * * * * * * * * *

Everyone in Nottingham Castle heard the Sheriff scream when he was informed that Robin Hood, his men and the Earl of Hereford had escaped.

"_GISBURNE!!!_"

* * * * * * * * * *

It took over half an hour to reach a new campsite deep in Sherwood. The Earl hadn't said a word the whole way. He was grateful for the rescue and knew they would have to put as much distance as possible between them and any possible pursuit. There would be time later for explanations all around.

When they reached a little clearing, they stopped, and everyone relaxed for the first time since Matthew had first shown up at the outlaws' camp.

Only the Earl was breathing hard. The outlaws were used to moving fast through the forest. Even the portly Tuck could hold his own in all but the longest of travels. Sitting down on the ground wasn't something the Earl was used to, but he was grateful to be able to do it now. He needed to catch his breath.

Tuck offered him a waterskin and the Earl drank from it long and slow. When he finally put it down, he sighed. "Thank you," he said, "for the water--and the rescue," he said looking at all the outlaws.

"We were happy to do it," Robin told him. He laughed. "We were on our way out anyway."

"Before we do anything else," Tuck said, "I need to put something on those wrists before they get infected." He searched around in his pouch and pulled out a jar. He opened it and got a generous finger full of the light brown cream, which looked slightly oily. He rubbed it on all the red areas on Robin's wrists. Robin winced a bit when Tuck touched the rawest places. 

When he finished, the friar wrapped a long narrow piece of white cloth around each wrist, tearing the cloth in half about ten inches from the ends and pulling one piece back around the other way. When the ends met, he tied them in a knot. Tuck smiled at Robin and nodded at his handy work. 

"Thank you, Tuck," Robin smiled. "That cream's cool and soothing."

"Try not to get the cloth wet. I'll change them tomorrow."

Robin looked at the Earl. "I know you're Henry de Bohun, Earl of Hereford. And I know a little about why you were being held prisoner."

De Bohun knew that was his cue to tell Robin and the others just what was going on. He took a deep breath and started his story. He told them about being taken prisoner when the ship he was on had docked near London. He explained about the council he and others hoped to establish to curb the King's unchallenged power. He wanted there to be someone else, in the form of a council of nobles that the King would have to answer to, at least in part. Not having free reign over everything involved in ruling England might lessen the tyranny King John was well known for.

"Normans watching Normans," Will snorted. "Let them all kill each other off and leave the rest of us alone."

Both Robin and the Earl looked at him. "Will," Robin said in a tone that could have been from a father reprimanding an errant child.

"Oh, well. "I...I didn't mean you," Will stammered, nodding toward de Bohun. "You seem to be trying to do something, even if it is to your own kind." It wasn't the most complimentary apology, but it was the best Will was going to offer.

The Earl almost laughed, but Robin still stared at Will.

Will looked up and saw Robin's expression. "What?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Robin asked.

"I apologized, didn't I?" Will said somewhat confused. What more did Robin want him to do?

Much leaned over. "Robin's a Norman, Will."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." Will now looked sheepish. He knew Robin came from the ruling nobility, of course, but Robin risked his life every day to help the common people, the common _Saxon_ people. He was so much a part of Sherwood, Will often forgot Robin was every bit as Norman as King John.

Robin couldn't help but smile. "It's all right, Will. I forgive your evil thoughts about Normans. There are some of us who aren't too nice," he admitted. "Owen of Clun comes to mind." To Hereford, he said, "Do you know who my father is?"

"I've heard," Hereford replied. When he had first found out the Earl of Huntingdon's son had become an outlaw, living in the forest, robbing and killing, he had made a few disparaging remarks to family and friends. Now, this outlaw had saved his life. He hoped there was no contempt in his tone, because he no longer felt that way. 

Robin continued, "My father plans to join your council, as long as it doesn't involve arms against the crown."

"That's not our intention. We just want to curb King John's absolute power. The way things are now, he does whatever he wants and answers to no one. That needs to change--for everyone's sake, Norman and Saxon alike." The Earl glanced Will's way when he made that last statement.

"It needs to be something strong enough to last and ensure that future kings will have to act with restraint as well," Robin pointed out. 

"That's what we hope to do," de Bohun said. "I just hope we can get enough powerful land barons to join. I'm glad to hear your father is interested. Perhaps, he can help persuade others."

"I'm sure he'll do his best." Robin offered the Earl some ale. After draining his own cup, Robin said, "Where will you go now?"

"I have friends I can stay with until it's safe to go back to Hereford."

Robin looked steadily at the Earl. "Are you sure you'll ever be safe there?"

"One day soon," de Bohun replied confidently. "Thanks to all of you and to men like your father who'll join us."

Robin was interested in knowing who else was in on the plans and what those plans were. However, he knew that now was not the time for such questions. He felt sure his father would fill him in when things were more settled.

The outlaws accompanied the Earl to the edge of Sherwood far from Nottingham Castle. Hereford shook hands all around and headed off, insisting that no one need accompany him any farther. 

Robin watched the Earl stride confidently away. He had no doubts that Hereford would accomplish all that he intended to. However, it was something that was going take time. After all, they would be attempting to change centuries of English history. It was definitely not the time to get impatient. Cool heads needed to prevail.

After de Bohun left, the outlaws headed for Herne's cave. Though Robin was sure Herne knew all about what had happened, he needed to retrieve Albion and thank the forest god. Robin smiled to think that he and his men might have just been part of something that, with luck and hard work, could ultimately benefit all the people of England.

Historical note: Ten years later, in June of 1215, Henry de Bohun, Earl of Hereford, was one of the major land barons who forced King John to sign the Magna Carta at Runnymeade. 


End file.
